


when you finally see it

by OrangeBlossoms



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Confessions, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Hair Braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 15:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeBlossoms/pseuds/OrangeBlossoms
Summary: Lissa experiences a change in perspective.





	when you finally see it

**Author's Note:**

> This all takes place vaguely after Incursion, but before Grimleal. Maybe some side maps skirmishes happen in between as well (in order to build up supports).

She never thought of herself as a bookish person. Despite appearances, that was Maribelle and in a weird, roundabout way, Maribelle being academically inclined was the reason she was here in Sumia’s tent looking at books in the first place. 

The weather had been chilly and damp. Not good for flitting around camp for social visits or doing much at all except bundling up in a tent and whiling away the idle hours after the day’s assignments were complete until dinnertime rolled around. 

Growing immediately bored with that prospect, she had hopped past puddles and stepped carefully down muddy paths. Briefly, she paused in front of the strategy tent. She had spent much of the evening there yesterday listening to to the minutiae of what it took to keep the whole operation running. A persistent crick in her neck reminded her how that ended for her: asleep on sacks of supplies where she had regrettably chosen to take a nap. No one woke her until dinner time, thus ensuring the ache had a chance to settle in and make itself at home. On the heels of that observation, she changed course and made her way over to Maribelle’s tent only to find her studying, the tent flap open to let in some of the light. 

She had thought to request a tune to lighten the day’s mood, but remembered Maribelle mentioning that the damp didn’t agree with the wood of her violin. Something about it expanding or contracting. It hadn’t made any sense until Maribelle compared it to the cedar side door to the main kitchen that stuck shut during particularly wet and humid days. The jamming made it all the more difficult to squirrel away treats without getting caught, her steady companion often remaining in the hallway as she quibbled over the morality of the act, hands bunched in her skirts, but never outright preventing the thefts. 

As she approached the tent, Maribelle hadn’t hesitated to invite her in. She offered her a chair and an untouched slice of toasted bread that was no longer warm before returning to her work with an apologetic look, eyes downcast. 

The peace had lasted about as long as the bread—still crisp and carpeted with a layer of preserves sugary enough to satisfy her sweet tooth. Lissa shared several idle thoughts, including referencing her kitchen exploits from their younger years. She was vaguely aware of the way Maribelle’s shoulders tensed and the half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she offered distracted responses. After one interruption too many, Maribelle turned from her work with an audible sigh and fixed her with an expression of mild dismay.

“Apologies, darling,” she huffed, her gaze and her tone softening as she continued, “but I’ve set a target for myself and I’ll be vexed if I’m unable to reach it.”

“Aw, Maribelle. I’m sorry,” she said as her shoulders sagged and arms crossed, wrapping herself up in a hug.

And she was! But even the sweet voice Maribelle seemed to reserve for the two of them didn’t erase the feeling of disappointment over being indirectly asked—albeit gently—to leave. Something in the exchange had a conciliatory affect and Maribelle amended her words.

“You are more than welcome to stay if you can find something quiet to do.”

Lissa considered the offer a moment and was struck with a possibility. 

“Ok! I’ll be back and then we can read together!”

“Splendid,” Maribelle murmured, with a smile and a knit brow that gave off the impression that she was both relieved and bemused by the declaration.

Several more puddle-skipping, trail-hopping minutes later had found her nearing Sumia’s tent. Sumia had said during dishwashing duty one day that Lissa was welcome to stop by whenever, their task temporarily forgotten when Lissa had acquiesced to the idea of reading being a potentially enjoyable pastime. She left out the small detail of how she hadn’t done any of it for fun since before her history and language lessons began in earnest. Any desire to read recreationally suffered a swift end at the sudden association of books with the kind of dry tomes Maribelle was currently huddled over, no doubt with a serious expression of concentration, lips quirked downward as she took notes in an elegant hand. Picturing the scene drew out a fond smile as she walked down the mostly empty paths, hoping to find the knight in residence. 

Sumia also had her tent flap open despite the chill and quickly signaled to two trunks that held a small subset of her collection, leaving Lissa to peruse at her leisure.

“I wish I could put them on shelves like we have at the barracks, but on days like today…” she trailed off, lips pursed. “A few already have some water damage, but at least I’ve yet to find any bugs. Anyway, it’s not like we need any more furniture to cart around. I feel bad for the mules as it is.”

It had never crossed Lissa’s mind that books were susceptible to infestation. She slowly removed her hands from the trunk she had been sifting through, brushing them over her skirts to rid herself of the phantom sensation of small, skittering legs gliding across ungloved fingers. 

Sumia had thus far spent the visit fussing with her hair for some mysterious reason. Lissa _guessed_ why, but repressed her grin as she waited for an opening. One was offered when a brush clattered against a chair and to the ground.

“You want help, Sumia?” 

“Hmm?” 

“With your hair!” she began innocently before dropping all subtlety. “Maybe you’d like to look extra nice for the commander?” She winked. 

Eyebrows raised to an almost comedic height, Sumia froze, several locks falling from where she had them pinched between her fingers and her face coloring hot and bright at the insinuation. Confident as a castle cat who’d caught a mouse, Lissa grinned.

"Your b-brother? What gave you that idea?” Sumia stammered, the embarrassed flush remaining, though an odd note that sounded more like discomfort tinged her words. She leaned over and picked up the brush, falling back into her previous state of worried anticipation. “I'm going to have tea with Sully and well, I wanted to try something different with my hair and oh! I _never_ get things like this right the first time around. I just _knew_ I should have practiced." 

Still quite certain tea with Sully was a convenient excuse, Lissa considered what she might do under similar circumstances. Not that she had ever preened for anyone in particular. Sure the _thought_ of an admirer was appealing. Someone to pay her compliments and keep her company during rainy afternoons. No one had ever clicked in that way and she was eager to ( _quietly_ , triumphantly) return to Maribelle’s side, a book or two in hand, ready to play the role of moral support while her friend worked. 

As for tea, well, she attempted to look nice for tea with Maribelle, but that was because _Maribelle_ always managed to clean up perfectly for their little gatherings. It didn’t matter if she had been out in sunny makeshift practice yards the same morning or if she had dealt with the commotion of the healing tents at their most dire. She was changed and kempt again for tea, every bit as pretty and proper as she would be if they were meeting in the castle gardens and not in field tents after an afternoon’s skirmish. The thought gave her an idea that could solve Sumia’s current dilemma very neatly.

"I can get Maribelle. She would know what to do!” she exclaimed, pleased with the sudden hit of inspiration. Studying was important, but Maribelle would definitely be willing to take a break for a good cause. 

Sumia paled considerably at the offer.

"No, no need for that! I'll figure it out. Somehow,” she groaned, head drooping as she covered her face. 

Startled once again at having somehow misread things, she did her best to make up for the blunder.

“Here, let me try then.”

“Really? You would do that?” Sumia’s head popped up, a pleading undercurrent accompanying her questions as she clasped her hands together.

Emm had let her play with her hair on several occasions, but after Lissa had joined the Shepherds, quiet evenings where her sister made time in her otherwise hectic schedule for her siblings had come to a close. Their last visits home had been whirlwind tours between introducing Emm to Robin and then Robin to the Shepherds. The assassination attempt… She walked over to where Sumia sat.

Emm had Phila and the rest of her guard, she reassured herself. Really, they were in greater danger in the field fighting against Risen and bandits and other armies than Emm was in Ylisstol surrounded by castle walls. She swallowed, redirecting her attention back to Sumia.

“Well, I know how to do about two things,” she explained, holding up her pointer and middle fingers for emphasis. “I’ll let you pick. Braid or no braid?”

“Braid, I suppose. Or whichever you prefer!” 

“Braid it is!” she exclaimed, reaching for the handle of the brush. Sumia sat up straight, hands curled shut as they rested on her thighs. 

Outside the wind shook the branches of a nearby tree, tugging at the tent flap and pulling at Sumia’s hair every so often as she worked. She could certainly understand the appeal of tea on such a dreary day, especially with the additional free time. The army’s progress had come to an abrupt halt as they waited in between destinations due to a river overflowing its banks. Even the usual supply runs were currently put on hold until both the roads cleared and intermittent high winds died down. The closest town sat just far enough away that staying at an inn wouldn’t have been worth the trek. A real roof and walls were nice thoughts, but a small voice chided her over the wistful direction her musing had taken. Chrom wouldn’t have stayed in an inn as it wouldn’t be an option available to everyone, which would mean that Lissa would probably emulate his example. She wrinkled her nose. 

_Oh, sweet four-poster bed with upholstered headboard and canopy with curtains, how I miss you._

No use sighing over any of that now when she had a request to fulfill. Thankfully, Sumia had already brushed her hair into soft waves, eliciting a heartfelt compliment as Lissa worked. 

“Oh, it’s nothing special,” Sumia demurred.

“No, really. I always kind of wanted to grow mine a bit longer, but ugh, it starts to become a hassle.”

She had made the mistake of inquiring after Maribelle’s hair care routine once. The resulting explanation—Maribelle sparing no detail—had her deciding then and there that her curls were meant to be admired rather than imitated. Sumia offered a small, polite nod at the statement, careful not to ruin Lissa’s handiwork.

“Did anything catch your eye?” Sumia inquired after a time.

“Hmm? Oh! The books! Sometimes it’s hard to tell from just the titles, y’know?”

“I might be able to help with that. Is there anything you’re looking for? Something with adventure? Do you like dragons? Pirates? Maybe a mystery?” she asked, starting to crane her neck as she continued to rattle off themes. Lissa could only watch as several strands fell from her grip, settling over the Sumia’s shoulders.

“Hey! Hold your head straight or I’ll drop everything!”

“Oh! Sorry! I tend to get carried away.”

The admission hadn’t escaped Lissa’s notice, but she kept that thought to herself.

“It’s alright! And hmm maybe something that doesn’t have princesses.”

She already had more than enough ground to cover in her personal quest to be more like Emm and didn’t need any reminders of all the areas where she came up lacking. Besides, it wasn’t really fair if these hypothetical princesses had perfect embroidery skills or excellent horsemanship without having to go through all the hours of practice to get there. That kind of thing took work!

“That should be easy enough. I’ll pick a variety and you can decide what you like best.”

“Sounds good!”

Lissa nodded, hands plaiting the gathered locks, one over the other just as Emm taught her. Sumia leaned back against the chair rails, the tension finally lifting from her shoulders.

The chatter died down, but the atmosphere was light and pleasant as the crown came together, a halo resting on Sumia’s head. On a nearby table, she spied an assortment of clips and ties, wrinkled ribbons and small, decorative pins. Instructing Sumia to hold her spot, she grabbed several before making her way back. 

“I _think_ I’ll let your own hair do the talking, so we’ll go light on the accessories. Just gotta to secure a few things,” she explained slowly as she pushed pins into place. The final step was drawing out all the under layers and settling them over Sumia’s back. “Ta-da!”

She hadn’t seen a hand mirror anywhere, but in her brief scan of the room, a mug of flowers caught her eye, a small pile of wilted petals gathered near the base.

“One more thing!” She snatched one of the healthier ones from the improvised vase and snapped the blossom and part of the stem off, gently sliding it behind Sumia’s ear. “Perfect if I do say so myself!” 

Sumia tucked a stray strand behind her unornamented ear, a shy smile blooming across her face. She beckoned Lissa as she stood, pulling her into a warm embrace. 

“Thank you! I really do appreciate it. As I said, I’m hopeless when I try something the first time.”

Suddenly self-conscious, Lissa waved it off as they both stepped back. 

“No big deal! You’re helping me out, too. A braid for a book.” 

“Right, let me find you a few things and then we can both be on our way.” Sumia dipped her hand into the open trunk before moving over to the second, pulling out several items from each. “A little bit of everything, but no princesses as requested.” 

Lissa carefully balanced the tower in her arms as Sumia handed them over. Keeping her feet dry would be more of a challenge during the return journey, but she’d manage. She was reading over the titles when another weight that smelled of spices and butter settled on top of the stack, a twine bow wrapped around its packaging. 

“I made too many,” Sumia assured her, a basket dangling from an arm. “Shall we?” 

They parted ways, Lissa telling her she hoped she had a nice time with Sully. The well-wishing once again caused her friend’s face to color. More curious than ever, she was dismayed when any further inquiries were postponed by the weather. One drop and then another fell as they said their farewells, neither wishing to get stuck out once it truly began to come down. 

She carefully picked her way back to Maribelle’s tent, arms sore by the end of it. As she stepped past the threshold, Maribelle was on her feet in an instant, more than halving her burden and muttering exclamations of concern.

“When I suggested something quiet, I hadn’t intended for you to relocate an entire library,” she quipped as she delicately lifted the package from the top with an inquiring glance.

“Sumia made it.”

Lissa got to work on unwrapping the baked goods—two generously portioned meat pies shaped to be eaten by hand—as Maribelle evaluated her other acquisitions.

“... _Mad Tales of a Bloodthirsty Falcon Knight_? I can’t say I’m familiar,” she drawled, eliciting laughter from Lissa.

“Oh, be nice!” she scolded as she continued to laugh, poking at her friend’s side and earning a mock reproachful look in return before Maribelle chuckled behind a hand as well. 

The exchange was interrupted as a gust blew in and lifted a flurry of papers off the table. Maribelle cried out in dismay as she snatched as many as she could before they could drift to the ground.

“Let’s just stay here for dinner,” Lissa suggested. Maribelle nodded her agreement, closing the tent flap as she grumbled darkly before the wind had another chance to toss about her work. Familiar enough with the space, Lissa set on lighting a small line of candles before settling next to Maribelle, a pie in each hand. “One for you and one for me!”

Despite Lissa’s appreciative hums as she dug in, Maribelle eyed her portion warily until she eventually nibbled at an end.

“It’s rather good!” she admitted.

“Mmhmm! Sumia made a batch for her and Sully, but she said there were extra. She was acting weird though! I wonder why…” 

She related the encounter, Maribelle growing increasingly focused on her meal until she ceased commenting altogether.

“What do you think that was about anyway?”

“I haven’t a clue,” she murmured, gaze still set on her half-eaten pastry. Leaving little room for remarks, she continued, “but it was very good of you to assist her. Please give my compliments to the chef when you return her things. Speaking of which, perhaps after dinner we can read about that barbarous falcon knight. I believe I’ve earned a break.” 

She hadn’t expected the suggestion, but polished off her meal before resting the book in her lap, turning the pages for the both of them as they nestled close, the wind as rain lashing at the tent.

~*~

Several days later, she returned to Sumia’s tent to exchange the book for its sequel, a reluctant Maribelle in tow. Sumia hadn’t fully changed out of her gear from morning exercises, but welcomed them both in out of the sun. 

“Take a seat anywhere you’d like!” she said as she rifled through her collection, cuirass under her arm. 

“We’re just stopping by. Not much time before our morning shift.”

Her companion had kept her thoughts to herself thus far. Maribelle wasn’t a morning person, but she had seemed almost pensive when Lissa had arrived to collect her on her way to Sumia’s. After the book was handed over, Sumia set her armor down and swept her into another hug, Maribelle sidestepping them both.

“Thank you again! Your efforts paid off,” Sumia burst out, the corners of her eyes creasing.

Nonplussed, Lissa could only answer with a graceless “Huh?”

Maribelle shot her a questioning glance and she answered with a slight shrug, equally perplexed. With a sheepish look, Sumia pulled away as she raised a hand to her cheek.

“Oh! Well, um, news will probably spread soon anyway, but Sully and I… I asked her if she wanted to hmm I guess you might say we’re an item?” she rambled, laughing in a pleased yet modest way. A part of Lissa that hadn’t descended into a stupor was vaguely aware of how charming it was.

She blinked and then all at once it hit her. 

“Oh. _Ohhh!_ Congratulations! The flower was a nice touch then!” she said, not missing a beat once she understood.

Sumia nodded, smiling fondly before relaying the rest of the story. Lissa interjected with questions now and again though a part of her had fallen into an entirely different thought process. Maribelle waited silently, taking the book from Lissa and clutching it to her chest. She managed a polite comment in thanks for their dinner from the other night and a feeble congratulatory nod before they had to leave at the sound of the shift change. 

As they meandered over to the healing tent under the flaxen light of the mid-morning sun, she reached for Maribelle’s hand like she used to do when they were children and to her great delight, warm fingers pressed against her palm in return.

“I’m really happy for them. What about you?” she said in a voice she hoped sounded casual, head tilted to watch her askance.

Maribelle stared resolutely forward as they walked, her other arm still hooked around the book as if it were the one thing keeping her afloat as she drifted in a stormy sea. She opened her mouth once and then again before settling on nodding her agreement. 

Lissa tried to think of what else she wanted to say, but all her thoughts scattered, messy like inkblots, dark and incomprehensible. Maybe if she just ran her mouth the right things would come out, but even for that her mind drew a blank. It was as if the dark cloud that had been hanging over Maribelle all morning had extended to her as well, the pressure of Maribelle’s hand in hers now a heavy weight. Something needed to be said. Of that she was certain, but she continued to follow the side path in silence, swamped with an unexpected wave of indecision.

As they rounded a bend of the cracked earth trail, Maribelle (who prized punctuality and reliability) pulled them off their course and through a field. The grass hadn’t yet been trampled by the army and brushed against their hands as they walked. The ground stretched out beneath their feet, each step less sure than the next. They came to a halt at the treeline, still within earshot of camp and neither willing to let go of the other’s hand. They stood for what felt like eternity before Maribelle finally spoke.

“Darling, there is something I should tell you.”

And that was how it started. What she hadn’t known to ask for, a thing she hadn’t understood she could even want all of a sudden made so much sense. 

And Maribelle who had reprimanded men twice her size before and didn’t fear riding up to the front lines with just a staff spoke to her with a straight back, but a quivering lip.

“And I think I would regret it if I didn’t say anything,” she continued as Lissa in her daze missed some of what was said, but the feelings behind her words rang true and it was both surprising and not at all a shock to sense them resonate with her own. 

“I think,” Lissa began, tongue heavy and thoughts disordered as she sifted through several years’ worth of events, struggling to catch up to the present, “that I want to have tea with you and read silly novels and spend rainy afternoons together… if that’s ok.” 

“But that is what we’re already doing now,” Maribelle said with a deflated look and what had sounded so nice wasn’t quite the right thing it seemed.

“Yes, but it’s different when it’s you. I think I’d like to dance with you even if I’m not very good at it and wear fancy dresses together and give you flowers and a million other things I can’t even think of, but it all sounds so much better if it’s with you.” She paused as she glanced up, certain she looked red and silly and not at all like Sumia whose expressions were so soft when she had told them about Sully. “Oh! Don’t cry, Maribelle!” 

“I’m not!” She averted her gaze and pressed her lips together even as her eyes glistened. And despite herself, Lissa laughed. She laughed until she was out of breath, the absurdity of it all catching up to her. 

“I’m sorry. It’s only… I think I love you,” she confessed with relief, kissing Maribelle (who would hopefully forgive her outburst despite the greatly affronted expression she wore) on a tear-stained cheek just as her own vision began to swim. “I just can’t believe I never knew what that was!” 

When they finally showed up late for their shift, their faces splotchy, but their hands still linked and furtive smiles tugging at their lips when their gazes met, the cleric on duty had to send a messenger to find Frederick and then Sumia—the last person to see the princess—and call off the search. 

They apologized several times that day, including to Sumia who embraced them both after they explained. Even Maribelle who was a stickler for proper etiquette didn’t protest. Sumia invited them to have tea with her and Sully at the stables, possibly more excited by the prospect of the four of them gathering than she was over Lissa’s recent interest in novels. Maribelle, who had since regained her voice and her spirit, briskly announced she would be the one to host, undoubtedly deterred by the thought of stableside tea.

It wasn’t until after dinner when they had a chance to talk alone. Rather than interrupt the lull, they spent most of the evening hours as the sun melted into twilight in contented silence, marveling at the new meaning behind everything that was once familiar.

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Lissa and Sumia being friends and I hope to return to that in a post timeskip context at some point. This was meant to be much shorter and simpler, but ah well, it's fine. How many times will I write Lissabelle confession? Oh, I don’t know. 
> 
> Also, this is vaguely in reference to the official art of Lissa doing Sumia's hair (minus the part where they're targeted by archers?). 
> 
> I also have a currently fragmented Sully/Sumia companion to this that I hope I finish. Maybe for pride month.


End file.
